


A Horizon

by Mapon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Separation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-16
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:11:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/564814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mapon/pseuds/Mapon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's not sure how many times they're going to come together and fall apart. Maybe someday they'll stay - one way or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Horizon

It’s the hardest conversation Stiles has ever had. He considers doing it in a restaurant, but being in public doesn’t seem right. His own house is wrong, and the Hale house is still a mess. So, after a week of overthinking it (in between eradicating a hive of especially nasty demon wasps), he drags Derek to a consistently deserted park halfway to the edge of town.

                Stiles falls into the swing, limp, but Derek stands. The swing lets Stiles fidget and twitch and not irritate Derek. But seeing Derek above him, eyes still cold, face drawn in a mask of anger, makes the events of the last few months hit had. Regret is a slimy coiled snake in Stiles’ stomach. He pushes the swing.

                “So.” His throat sticks awkwardly, predictably.

                “You wanted to talk?” Derek says. His voice is bland.

                “Yeah,” Stile says. “Yeah. Well, okay, this is really complicated, so don’t take it the wrong way. It’ll be super easy to take it the wrong way. Like, most people do, or I think they do, because I haven’t done this often or ever really –“

                Derek suddenly stands right in front of him, his knees bumping Stiles’ knees and causing the wild swing to still. The werewolf is close – touching – yet far. Stiles stares up at him, silent.

                “If you’re going to break up with me, go ahead.”

                Stiles splutters. “I – well, yeah, I am. But don’t take it – Derek, I know you’re taking it wrong," Stiles reprimands.

                Derek raises one eyebrow.

                “I like you. A lot,” Stiles breathes out, his voice betraying his emotions more than he intended. “But right now…we seem like a bad fit.”

                “Oh,” is all Derek says. He doesn’t move from where his knees touch Stiles.

                The park is silent, and Stiles has decided to look at the ground rather than Derek’s face. He scuffs his shoe on the dirt.

                Derek finally goes to move away, to walk away, to leave, and Stiles jerks up to stand, so close, too close, in front of the alpha. He’s not quite as tall as Derek, but he can meet his gaze evenly.

                “I like being with you,” Stiles says. “Right now we’re not – I’m not ready.”

                Derek is frowning and unreadable, but after a few minutes he slings an arm around Stiles shoulder and says, “Okay.”

                His voice might sound a bit deeper and rougher than usual, but Stiles can’t tell for sure. He swallows down his regret.

***

After that, life is surprisingly similar. Every month there’s a new nasty in town to be dealt with. Everyday school continues to fail to excite (at least not like actual night _mares_ can). The pack is rowdy. After school they practically fall over each other getting to the Hale house.

                The day after Stiles breaks up with Derek he debates going with the Pack. He has since what feels like forever, but his stomach is threatening to rebel. He goes anyway, driving Scott and Isaac in his jeep. His heart sinks past his feet when he pulls up to the decrepit house and both werewolves lean towards him.

                “Are you okay?” Scott asks, eyebrows drawn together.

                “Yeah, I’m great,” Stiles says. His grin is shaky.

                Isaac places a hand on his shoulder and a wave of calm instantly floods Stiles’ body. He takes a deep breath and gets out of the car.

                But when Derek sees him there isn’t anger. Not even pain. Stiles has no idea what he sees on Derek’s face. It’s a reminder of why he ended the affair. Why he wasn't ready, why they weren't ready.

                Each day after that gets easier: he stops thinking of how he used to stay longer at the house after the Pack had left, he stops expecting Derek to show up at his window some nights, he stops remembering those little habits. Stiles knows he’s changing – his emotions, his ideas, his thoughts – and he sees Derek changing too. They’re both shifting and changing in ways they couldn’t as a couple.

                Then college comes, and Stiles leaves.

***

He meets Jesse in college, and he almost falls in love. Freshman year he dates two girls – Miranda and Zadey. Miranda is dark and beautiful and strong-willed, but on their third date she confesses that she’s self-conscious of her voice, of her opinions.

                Stiles wants to tell her that he thinks her voice is beautiful and that outspoken women are a turn on. Instead, he just smiles and says, “You never have to talk if you don’t want. But, you know, if you have something to say, better to say it, right?”

                She huffs but her eyes are bright with happiness. A week later she tells him she can’t be in a relationship anymore. She says she’s too busy, she doesn’t want to be distracted from school (and, _oh_ , is Stiles ever a good distraction). It hurts because Stiles likes her, but god knows he understands. They’re friends all through college – and afterward too, when she reveals to him that she’s half-faery. (When he finds out all he can say is, “Yeah, it figures, it _figures_ , I’m the only human out of you all.”)

                Zadey goes down as a bad decision. Scott and Stiles still aren’t sure what she was. Some sort of siren, maybe a gorgon? But she captivates Stiles just like Lydia had and nearly brainwashes him. At first Scott assumes it’s just regular romantic obsession. Then Stiles is sick and weak when he’s away from Zadey, unable to focus, barely able to stay awake.

                Scott confronts the girl and things get ugly. He still has a scar on his shoulder from where she sprays him with acid. Once she leaves – smirking, goading Scott to attack her again – Stiles collapses and sleeps for a week. When he wakes all he remembers is the cute sassy girl that had ignored him for weeks before asking him out. Scott has to fill in the missing three months.

                But Jesse – Jesse is human. Blessedly, blessedly human. Stiles meets him his in junior year, and they bond over their love of lacrosse. At first it’s friendly, hanging out in Jesse’s apartment and talking or playing video games. One day Jesse leans close, almost kissing him before freezing and saying, “Oh, uh, is this okay?”

                It’s more than okay with Stiles. Jesse is funny and intelligent and a great gamer. He listens to Stiles ramble on and on without looking bored. And he has the best booze. It’s easy with Jesse, and comfortable, and Stiles is sure Jesse is decent. An honest guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, who doesn’t ask hard questions when Stiles disappears to save Scott’s ass from yet another supernatural menace. Not to mention, the sex is fucking fantastic.

                The sex, it turns out, is also the problem. They decide to be exclusive, get tested together, and neither of them has an STI so – even though Stiles isn’t quite sure about it, they stop using condoms. Stiles still gets tested regularly, out of habit, but after Jesse snaps at him about it he makes sure not to let his boyfriend know.

                Halfway through senior year, almost a year since he met Jesse, he tests positive for two (treatable) STIs. And of course he confronts Jesse about it – but he waits to treat the infections, to talk to Scott, to see if Jesse will say anything. The time between finding out and confronting Jesse feels like ice, and he still gets sick thinking about it.

                Jesse is properly ashamed the entire time Stiles yells. He gives his excuses – drunk, he wasn’t thinking, he’s sorry – but Stiles is so mad. It hurts so much that Jesse put his health at risk, that he didn’t tell him, so much more than the cheating itself.

                But Jesse’s face turns sour when Stiles keeps ranting and he bites out, “Well, it wasn’t anything actually _bad_. So what?”

                Stiles slams the door as he leaves. He doesn’t go back. He doesn’t talk to Jesse ever again.

***

Graduation brings the pack. Jackson is graduating from the same college as Stiles and Scott, so it isn’t too much of a surprise. Isaac shows up first, all smiles with a huge scar across his lips. He smacks Jackson and hugs Stiles – it turns out Isaac is huge on physical affection – but Scott doesn’t give him a chance to say hello before he asks, mildly horrified, “Are you okay?”

                Isaac laughs. “Didn’t think we could scar?”

                “Oh, I know we can,” Scot says, showing off his own.

                “Holy shit,” Isaac mumbles. He runs his fingers over the pockets along Scott’s shoulder. “What…”

                “Acid.”

                “Ouch. I got hit by a ceremonial blade. My mouth was numb for a week.” The two wolves laugh off their injuries.

                Erica, Boyd, and Lydia are next, the day before the graduation ceremony. Jackson tries not to show his happiness at having his wolf-family back – but Erica harasses the truth out of him.

                The ceremony is boring, long, and a relief. Four years and now they’re done, they can go out into the world. They’re all, every one of them, headed back to Beacon Hills. There are hugs and pictures and pushing and kisses after the ceremony. And Derek is there – not saying anything, but his lips twitch up every few seconds and he nods at Jackson (Scott doesn’t need a nod, all he gets is a _look_ ).  For some reason Stiles is surprised to see him, and he’s even more surprised at how happy he is to see Derek.

                They sleep together that night. In the morning, Derek is gone.

***

Stiles is working and blogging in Beacon Hills, and every week he winds up in the remade Hale house fucking Derek’s brains out. It’s familiar but not exactly comfortable, not with the way he leaves afterwards or the way Derek disappears if he’s visited Stiles’ home instead. Pack business is as usual. Maybe the rest of the wolves know what’s going on, maybe they don’t – but if they do they’re light years ahead of Stiles because he has no idea what he and Derek are doing. He doesn’t want to ask.

                Derek comes to him almost a year after Stiles has returned to Beacon Hills and tells him, “I can’t do this anymore. It’s not enough.”

                And Stiles says, “I can’t give you anymore.”

                Derek leaves.

                At first, Stiles thinks Derek is just avoiding him. Then Scott says, “No, dude, he left me in charge. He said he needed a break. He _left_.” Then he looks at Stiles and tilts his head, lifting an eyebrow. “What happened, man?”

                It hurts. The realization that Derek has left entirely leaves Stiles in physical pain. He mumbles, “I don’t know,” and walks away, walks home, sits on his bed and stares at the floor. He can’t seem to swallow. Derek’s face is too fresh in his mind. Before college, Derek’s face had still been a mask of anger. No matter what Stiles did or said the mask didn’t fall. He couldn’t read the alpha. The mere concern he had offered towards bruises was met with harsh growls that made it clear Stiles’ opinions were unwelcome.

                After Stiles graduates, Derek smiles. He keeps the pack and Stiles informed on dangerous developments and doesn’t shove away when Stiles gasps at the wolf’s bruises. He _expresses_. He is more than anger and pain and Stiles is sad he missed that change happen but so happy that Derek has broken that pain, so happy Derek is _more_.

                A sob comes from his chest. He bends over, hiding his face, remembering how they were and realizing what Derek wanted and seeing it, seeing that possibility, realizing that Derek wanted more because he loves – loved – Stiles and shit it hurts. He can’t change what he said. He doesn’t even know where Derek is.

                Gone. And life goes on.

***

Derek returns frequently to check on the pack, but it’s six years and a lot of relationships until Stiles sees him again. To say he was wounded by Derek actively avoiding him would be true, but he also understood and expected it. He doesn’t expect Derek to turn up at his house, wearing that same leather, looking no older, and knock on the front door. The knocking is what really surprises Stiles. Maybe Derek’s grown out of theatrics.

                “You’re a writer now,” is the first thing Derek says. The very first thing, standing in Stiles’ doorway, sunglasses on and hands shoved in his pockets. He looks the same. Exactly the same. Stiles feels so much older. He’s almost 30. He becomes conscious of his wrinkles.

                “Come in then,” he replies. He wonders if they’ll end up talking past each other again. The thought tires him.

                Derek doesn’t speak again until they’re sitting at a table, drinking coffee. The silence is unmatched. Stiles has missed Derek, with an ache, a feeling that has become background noise and poisoned a few of his relationships after Derek first left. He spins his cup but doesn’t drink. When Derek talks Stiles almost jumps out of his seat.

                “I read one of your books.”

                “Oh god,” Stiles says, taking a nervous sip of coffee. “I hope it was the one from last year. The first two were, jeez, I know it’s progress but I’m just horrified by myself sometimes.”

                “I liked it,” Derek says. Stiles makes more coffee. “It was good for the plane ride here.”

                Stiles laughs, unable to stop himself, and turns back to Derek. “Did you pick it up just to tell me you read it? It’s okay. Scott hasn’t even read them; you really shouldn’t feel like you have to.”

                Derek shakes his head, eyebrows drawn down in frustration, and stands. “No. I wanted to read it.” He walks closer to Stiles, almost too close. Stiles forgets to breathe. “You have books in airport store windows but you still live _here_.”

                “Ugh, I know, right next to that how-not-to-do-sex erotica trilogy. I mean, not to say I’m any better –“

                Derek growls and slams a hand onto the counter. “You’re a millionaire and you stayed here?”

                “Because I wanted to be here when you came back. If you came back to see me,” Stiles breathes out. It’s half-true. He says it because he needs to see Derek’s reaction and part of him just couldn’t leave Beacon Hills. Not with his father and Scott and the pack being there. It’s home. The Hale house – the pack house – is home.  And because, yes, after Talysia he was able to accept that he’d always want Derek to come back. To see him again. To come home.

                Derek stares at him before backing off. “I’ve come back.”

                “Are you leaving again?” Stiles blurts, actually frantic. His heart is leaping in his chest. “It’s been six years since you’ve been, actually stayed, you know, like stayed or lived, here, everyone misses you, I – I missed you, so…you’re leaving again?”

                “No,” Derek growls out. But he’s slunk further from Stiles. “I’m staying in town permanently.”

                “Okay. Okay, that’s good, that’s great.”

                They stand apart and the coffee has finished dripping, but Stiles has forgotten about it.

                “Your book made me think of you,” Derek says. His knuckles are white as he presses them into the dining room table. “Of last time.”

                “I’m sorry.”

                “Don’t apologize.” Derek leans back, and all his anger seems to seep out of him into the ground. He takes a deep breath. “Do you think you can give me more? Fuck, I mean…”

                “Yeah,” Stiles says, quietly, unsure of how to take Derek’s fumbling. Probably as typical Derek. “Yeah,” he says, louder. “I want to do this again, do us again, except…let’s get it right this time.”

                Derek quirks a smile.

***

They try for brunch at a café. It goes fantastic – Stiles is able to win smiles from Derek and the man talks about where he’s been the past years. But, somehow, they end up at Stiles’ house with Derek fucking him over and over and Stiles gasping out, “Derek, _Derek_ ” again and again. When they finish (after a few rounds) Stiles is too tired to move so he just collapses. Derek holds on to the headboard to keep from crushing Stiles beneath him and eventually rolls to the side.

                “Wow,” Stiles exhales. “Wow, Derek.” The werewolf pants beside him, rhythm familiar. “That was intense.”

                Derek grunts.

                “Missed me that bad?” Stiles jabs, smiling even wider and poking the wolf. Derek tenses, and then Stiles does as well. He did something wrong, his words set something off, the joke isn’t okay. Derek begins to roll off the bed – beings to escape, run away – when Stiles catches him around the chest and says, “Nope, wait. We’re doing this right, so what just happened?”

                Derek is silent for a long time. It takes all of the tricks Stiles has taught himself to keep quiet. “…How many other people…since…” Derek grinds out.

                “Six,” Stiles says immediately. “We were safe every time, and I’m clean.” Not to mention, Derek and he always use condoms.

                Derek huffs. “That’s not what I’m thinking. I haven’t…since I left I haven’t slept with anyone else. When you were in college I didn’t sleep with anyone else.”

                It doesn’t take mental tricks for Stiles to remain silent after that. He wraps himself around Derek, arms embracing his chest, chin on Derek’s shoulder. The wolf’s breathing is carefully even.

                “…why?” he asks. Derek shrugs and tips his head back.

                “Never wanted to. I was –“ Derek’s throat catches and he coughs, fidgeting. “I wanted you.”

                Stiles chews his lip, not knowing what to say. Of course he’s thought of Derek the past years. Almost every day, to be honest, but Stiles knows better than to get too attached. He didn’t know if Derek was coming back. He doesn’t have any words of comfort.

                Derek turns around and holds Stiles’ hips, looking at the wall behind him. “I didn’t –“ He squeezes. “I didn’t want you to wait for me. Just, don’t think that. I just never wanted to be with someone else.”

                “Okay,” Stiles says. “I didn’t realize, until you left, what you felt. And then –“ the pain of the memory bites, renewed and fresh, “-I didn’t know if you would ever want to, uh, not come back, but come back to me. So, I’m not blaming you, shit, I mean, if I’d opened my eyes for a second I would have seen you….you didn’t want me to wait?” he finally asks. Somehow, during his rant, they’ve ended up laying together, his hands around Derek’s neck.

                Derek looks at him, meets his eyes, doesn’t look away.

                “I want you to be happy,” he says.

                “Oh,” Stiles gasps. Neither of them look away. They stay close, they breathe the same air, they adopt each other’s scent and remain together. When they kiss, slowly, Stiles feels the sky comes down to earth, a meeting of impossibility.

 


End file.
